Learn How to Be Interested in Other People

If you’re writing about people you have to be interested in people. What makes a question a good question? Well, I like, “Do your children shower?” or “Who’s the drunkest customer that you’ve had today?” I met this woman one time and I said, “When was the last time you touched a monkey?” And she said, “Oh, can you smell it on me?” That’s the kind of moment you can create when you learn how to be really interested in other people and how to observe the world around you.

DAVID SEDARIS

The Narrative Essay

Poetry seems to have priced itself out of a job; sadly, it often handles few materials of significance and addresses a tiny audience. Literary fiction is scarcely published; it’s getting to be like conceptual art — all the unknown writer can do is tell people about his work, and all they can say is, “good idea.” The short story is to some extent going the way of poetry, willfully limiting its subject matter to such narrow surfaces that it cannot address the things that most engage our hearts and minds. So the narrative essay may become the genre of choice for writers devoted to significant literature.

ANNIE DILLARD

A Really Good First Line

A book won’t stand or fall on the very first line of prose – the story has got to be there, and that’s the real work. And yet a really good first line can do so much to establish that crucial sense of voice -- it’s the first thing that acquaints you, that makes you eager, that starts to enlist you for the long haul. So there’s incredible power in it, when you say, come in here. You want to know about this. And someone begins to listen.

STEPHEN KING

Writers Are Under a Great Strain

I’ve always been unstable under pressure. When I start to write, my mind is apt to race, like a clock from which the pendulum has been removed. I simply can’t keep up, with pen or typewriter, and this causes me to break apart. I think there are writers whose thoughts flow in a smooth and orderly fashion, and they can transcribe them on paper without undue emotion or without getting too far behind. I envy them. When you consider that there are a thousand ways to express even the simplest idea, it is no wonder writers are under a great strain. Writers care greatly how a thing is said—it makes all the difference. So they are constantly faced with too many choices and must make too many decisions. I am still encouraged to go on. I wouldn’t know where else to go.

E.B. WHITE

Feedback

Feedback is great, from your editor, your agent, your readers, your friends, your classmates, but there are times when you know exactly what you’re doing and why and obeying them means being out of tune with yourself. Listen to your own feedback and remember that you move forward through mistakes and stumbles and flawed but aspiring work, not perfect pirouettes performed in the small space in which you initially stood. Listen to what makes your hair stand on end, your heart melt, and your eyes go wide, what stops you in your tracks and makes you want to live, wherever it comes from, and hope that your writing can do all those things for other people. Write for other people, but don’t listen to them too much.

REBECCA SOLNIT

Listen Completely

When people talk listen completely. Don’t be thinking what you’re going to say. Most people never listen. Nor do they observe. You should be able to go into a room and when you come out know everything that you saw there and not only that. If that room gave you any feeling you should know exactly what it was that gave you that feeling. Try that for practice. When you’re in town stand outside the theatre and see how the people differ in the way they get out of taxis or motor cars. There are a thousand ways to practice. And always think of other people.

ERNEST HEMINGWAY

Write the Tale that Scares You

Write the tale that scares you, that makes you feel uncertain, that is uncomfortable. I dare you. In a world that entices us to browse through the lives of others to help us better determine how we feel about ourselves, and to, in turn, feel the need to be constantly visible, for visibility these days seems to somehow equate to success. Do not be afraid to disappear, from it, from us, for a while, and see what comes to you in the silence.

MICHAELA COEL

Punctuation Is the Breath

If words are the flesh, muscle, and bone of prose, punctuation is the breath. In support of the words you’ve carefully selected, punctuation is your best means of conveying to the reader how you mean your writing to be read, how you mean for it to sound. A comma sounds different than a semicolon; parentheses make a different noise than dashes.

BENJAMIN DREYER

We're All Private

There are certain things I don’t talk about. I have kept diaries, of course, but they can’t be read for quite a long time. What will emerge when people read them? I can’t imagine that anything will emerge that can’t be deduced from reading any of my books now. This is why I’m always curious about people who are fascinated by writers’ lives. It seems to me that we’re always in our books, quite nakedly. I wonder, too, does the private life really matter? Who cares what is known about you and what isn’t? Even when you make public something that’s been private, most people don’t get it—not unless they’re the same generation and have gone through more or less the same experiences. So, in a sense, we’re all private, by definition.

DORIS LESSING

The Artist Makes His Living by Pretending

I’ve heard that a writer is lucky because he cures himself every day with his work. What everybody is well advised to do is to not write about your own life — this is, if you want to write fast. You will be writing about your own life anyway — but you won’t know it. And, the thing is, in order to sit alone and work alone all day long, you must be a terrible overreacter. You’re sitting there doing what paranoids do — putting together clues, making them add up…. Putting the fact that they put me in room 471…. What does that mean and everything? Well, nothing means anything — except the artist makes his living by pretending, by putting it in a meaningful hole, though no such holes exist.

KURT VONNEGUT